The Blonde Bandit
by PandoraNaflink
Summary: In Varrock lives a girl that has lost everything. She spent years trying to overcome a murder she committed when finally, she finds a way out of the shame. Within the Black Arm Gang. Katrine shows her a life where she's never been freer, all it takes is making a few crimes along the way. Can her conscience cope, or will it just resurface terrible memories?


- Authors Note - : So I was randomly playing Runescape because Summer can get boring at times... and I thought 'hm, Runescape is filled with so many different creatures and people and worlds... a story could be made up of anything!' and thus, this fiction was born! Hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 1**

It had been just another day in Varrock, people were going about their business selling at the market and buying at the grand exchange. Everything was as it usually was. When suddenly, a mass of blonde locks shot past the surprised crowd as she pushed her way through the centre of town. Some people called out, but the majority remained calm. They'd seen it all before.

"Thief! Stop her! Stop the thief!"

Not seconds later a mass of at least half a dozen Varrock guards barged through the crowded cobbled streets. Bystanders moved to the edges of buildings to let them through. Brandished with expensive swords and shields, the guards moved together in one mass until they reached the local pub.

The main guard stopped and moved to face his followers, "split up, find the thief!"

The guards all mumbled out hurried acknowledgements as they began to run in different directions. The main guard stayed where he was and sighed; "one day, we are going to catch you."

"Thief, Thief!"

She rolled her eyes as she rounded another corner, skidding across the cobblestone and almost tripping over her own feet as she grabbed the edge of another building. She'd been at this game too long, she could tell that the people of Varrock were beginning to grow tired of the disruptions she caused. Still, she'd never grow tired of the shocked expressions she got when she stole a bit of produce from a market stall or a handful of cash from one of the nearby stores.

She held her breath as three guards strode by, but sure enough, they simply walked past not even bothering to check if she'd tried to hide.

"Useless," she muttered to herself with a quick grin as she began to pat herself over, searching for the small bag she'd strapped to her side. Sure enough there it was, her small little bag made of a few cow hides. Inside was her 'treasure' as she liked to call it. All and anything that she had managed to get her hands on. A couple of pieces of fruit from one of the market stalls in the town centre… a few coins from the pub she'd managed to pinch off a drunkard and finally… the main cause for all of this mess…

A necklace. An absolute beauty. Never had she been more attracted to a piece of jewellery. Usually it was just the stuff for survival but _this… _it was just amazing.

A thin silver chain with a pendent of pure sapphire at its centre. It had caught her eye almost immediately; it was just unfortunate that it had been attached to a person's neck at that moment. She smiled as she let it sit in her fingers; _but not anymore, _she thought mischievously.

"THERE!"

Her heart sank as she turned to see the Varrock Guards staring at her with fire burning in their eyes. It had been many years since their first encounter with the infamous blonde haired thief. They still didn't know her name, but it didn't matter when they could draw a half decent sketch on the wanted posters.

She was running before half the guards had even focused on her whereabouts. There was no way they'd catch her, not now, not ever.

She pushed past the people on the street rather easily, half of them were just as poor as she was and nearly cheered her on before silencing themselves as the guards lumbered by. She giggled, turning on her heels to stick her tongue out at the fuming guards before she broke through the gates of Varrock and out into the open paths.

"Grace!"

She flinched, holding her bag possessively to her chest as she turned towards the accusing voice. Yeah, none of the Varrock guards knew her name, except maybe _one…_

"Shove off Charlie," Grace growled as she dropped the bag so it swung across her side, "I'm doing this on my own!"

"Yeah," Charlie had the same strong build as most of the Varrock guards, but under his heavy armoured helmet was a head of golden locks and from the shadow the helmet added to his face were a pair of blue eyes, remarkably like his sister's. "Jeez Grace, when are you just going to give this up?"

Grace's frown darkened, "let's not forget how _mother _cast me out!"

Charlie glanced back to the gates, the guards were still trailing behind, "Grace, you know what you did, don't you think any self-respecting mother-"

"I've gotta go,"

"At least let me give you some money," Charlie begged as he eyed the guards, "By the three Gods, Grace, this is getting dangerous!"

"No!" Grace snarled, "not now, not _ever. _I don't need your money, I don't need mother's money, I don't need _anyone._" She took one glance back at the guards before smiling cockily at her brother, tipping an imaginary hat as she began to track backwards, "see you around Charlie!" She called as she broke into a light jog down the pathway, down towards Lumbridge.

Charlie and Grace had never had the best relationship even before she had been disowned; they had always fought, but it had usually been very one sided. Charlie got bored of verbal abuse rather quickly, whereas Grace was a head strong bully at the best of times. She lived to torment, which was why – she guessed – she was so good at stealing.

Nevertheless, Charlie would do as he always did. With the bystanders that would no doubt be questioned, Charlie would stick to the facts. Grace _was headed_ to the next town over, Grace _was headed _towards Lumbridge. The guards would let it go knowing there were just as many wanted posters in Lumbridge and go back into Varrock, content that they had done what had been needed for that day. Little did they know that during their time of distraction, Grace had done a full turn and was now headed towards the back wall of Varrock. Usually she would scale the wall with little trouble, but sometimes she got lucky and could simply walk through the gates.

Most of the time, Grace didn't carry a weapon. She was a fast pick-pocket and thief but that didn't require any physical harm. It wasn't that she had never used a weapon before, she had. Grace shivered just thinking about it.

_Forgive me, please! I have sinned; oh Gods… please forgive me!_

She'd begged for so long to each of the three Gods, but she didn't_ feel_ like she had been forgiven. Not in the eyes of the Gods and most certainly not in the eyes of her mother. Not even in the eyes of Charlie. Sure, he worried about her, but you could worry about someone without forgiving them. How could he? How could he even _consider _forgiving her? She'd _killed _someone.

"No." she said stubbornly to herself as she dropped silently to the ground from her climb back into Varrock. The sun was dying in the sky and the streets were already beginning to calm down. She was in the poorer parts of Varrock anyway and she blended in perfectly. All she wore were a pair of buckled black trousers and a grey sleeveless shirt. The only thing that would make her look any different from the poor was the pair of boots she wore. She'd stolen them from a wealthy family a long time ago and nearly been caught. _Nearly._

They were a deep beige with straps that reached all the way to her knees. They were comfortable and quiet wear, especially good for her kind of job description.

Soon, she found what she was looking for. An old abandoned two story building, barely standing up right. The windows were boarded up along with parts of the walls where the bricks had fallen loose.

"Home sweet home," she muttered sarcastically as she walked through the doorway. There was hardly anything on the first floor. Just a dirty sink and a mouldy table that barely stood upright. Still, it was hers and therefore she didn't care. She sighed tiredly and threw her bag onto the table which creaked with the new found weight. She emptied the contents, placing the apples and oranges she'd stolen in the centre of the table. Any meat produce was cooked straight away or fed to the wild animals that wandered through Varrock. Which reminded her…

"Benny!" She called, her eyes darting from left to right, "Gotcha some nice meat slabs from the mark- hey!" Grace frowned as Benny swooped down from the ladder leading to the second floor and landed on the table, practically shoving his whole head into the bag to reach for the juicy raw meat. Benny was an Imp, and not a very smart one at that. Like the other Imps in Varrock, he had spent most of his time wandering around with a small sword which he hardly ever got to use. Being so small and weak, the little horned demons were usually attacked by adventurers for no apparent cause except for whatever the creatures had in their pockets. Grace had never been a fan of people attacking the Imps, but when Benny had appeared in her broken house one day, weak from hunger, she couldn't help but feed him. Soon, Benny began to follow her and after that she decided to keep him. She'd known that a lot of imps could actually talk, but Benny wasn't a fan. He'd speak a few words on occasion like 'food' or 'sleep,' but apart from that he remained mute. He didn't even use his little sword anymore; he simply sat on Grace's shoulder and hissed at anyone that got too close.

"Sorry it isn't much," Grace said sheepishly as she watched Benny devour the entire slab in under a minute. Benny grunted in response and shoved his head back inside the bag. The clink of chains from inside the leather suddenly reminded Grace of her most precious prize; "wait, Benny, be careful!"

Benny pulled out the necklace and sniffed it, wondering whether he could eat it. Grace snatched out of it, but the little beast simply leapt from the table and hovered above her head. He licked it tentatively before grinning and taking a bite at the chain.

Grace gasped in surprise as a flash of light engulfed the Imp, not seconds later Benny yelped and let go of the jewellery. Benny fell to the floor with it, but scrambled away and hissed at his attacker, "b-bad!" he growled lowly as he remained on all fours, baring his little fangs at the necklace.

Grace chuckled, "bad to eat, perhaps." She picked up the jewellery and inspected it closer, "so the old hag in that tent must have been practicing more than just fortunes," the sapphire in the centre sparkled gently into Grace's eyes as she grinned, "looks like I've stumbled upon some kind of amulet."

"S-stolen," Benny stuttered as he rose from the ground once more.

Grace rolled her eyes, "fine then, yes, I stole it. But it's not like that hag would even notice, she's always too preoccupied spouting nonsense stories about all those stupid adventurers being the 'chosen ones.'"

Benny chuckled darkly as he perched himself on Grace's shoulder. Grace turned her attention to her little pet and began to stroke his head softly, "We should probably get to bed, we got a big day tomorrow, people to scam, things to steal."

Benny grunted in response and stayed put as Grace mounted the ladder and began to climb upwards.

The second floor was – if possible – even drearier. It only held a scruffy bed with a rag as a blanket and a bundle of hay that Grace had put together for Benny's comfort, though most of the time he completely ignored it and instead slept on the end of her bed. She couldn't reason why, in fact, she was pretty certain that the hay was probably more comfortable.

Still, Grace pulled the rag over her body and groggily placed her head on the hard pillow. It only took a few moments for her to slip into unconsciousness; the day had been rough on her, like any other. She just hoped that one day, it would all change.

But in the shadows of Varrock's poorest side, footsteps became apparent. Hushed voices echoed through the darkness as they moved closer to the little shack that Grace had made her own. Then, the door creaked open as hushed voiced filled the first floor.

Benny stirred, opening his eyes as he looked out into the dark. Being an Imp, he had keen, heightened senses and it took no time at all for him to accustom himself to the dark. Then he heard the voices, the creaks from movement and then… pressure applied to the ladder.

Benny stood on his hind legs and hissed as the ladder angrily before turning his attention to Grace.

"B-bad people!" Benny said desperately, attempting to rouse his 'master,' "bad people!"

Suddenly, a hand slapped into Benny's mouth as he wriggled angrily under a sudden iron grip around his body. Still he tried to yell to Grace, "b-d pth!" he whined, "b-d, p-ple!"


End file.
